Christine's Diary
by Paris Ballerina
Summary: Based off of the song A Nurses Story by Linda Eder. What if when Christine returned to Erik she tried to nurse him back to health. Now that she realized she loved her angel, she couldn’t loose him. Please R&R! ***Chapter 5 now up!
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Well this is going to be a short story. It's just a little idea that came to me while listening to the song. Hope you enjoy and please review!

PS: I am working on making this story have a little more thicker plot. So you will notice that the first chapter is redone, but the next two are not. I will get to them in time but I don't want to take down the whole story because I am working on editing. So stay checking in and I will let you know when I am done editing the next two chapters.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the opera. If I did, I probably wouldn't be spending my time writing phanficion.

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November 21, 1889

Erik's condition is no better today. His face is still paler than usual and he can barely say a word. When he tries to speak, I advise him to save his

breath. I do most of the talking myself. Oh God, how it pains me to see him in such a state! How could I have left him only three weeks ago? It

seems like another lifetime. Thinking back on that horrible night, I now realize that my choice was made by a girl blinded by fear. It is true, he

terrified me to a point to where I would rather die then spend a day living with him. The way he cried at my feet and begged for love, a love I could

not give him, it broke my heart. I turned the scorpion out of pure pity and to save my beloved Raoul. Oh Raoul! You always knew me better than I

did. I can still remember those words you spoke to me on the roof. Words that I thought foolish at the time, but now I see are the truth. All of my

fear and terror turned out to be love, and love of the most exquisite kind! Then I read the ad in the _Epoque. _I never though that three words would

impact me so much. As soon as I heard you were dead, I myself died as well, for I never realized how much you meant to me. I remembered what

you had asked of me before I left, so I headed towards the Opera House the next morning with the gold ring on my finger. As I reach the house on

the lake, things were not as I remembered them. Music was scattered everywhere, dishes and glass covering the carpet, and the organ destroyed.

The memory of that day is enough to bring me to tears. Everything used to be so beautiful. The little life that you had tried to bring to this house for

me had left a long time ago. I found you in your room. Oh how I hated that room! It was so dark and morose, but there you were, lying in your

coffin. I approached you ever so slowly because I still couldn't get over the fact that you were dead. I stood over you and wept. I couldn't help but

think that this is my fault. He is dying because of me. The thought was heavy on my heart because such a beautiful soul died because of my childish

ways. I went to place my gold ring on your finger and to my surprise; I saw the faint rise and fall of his chest. I was so happy I wept tears of joy! I

thanked God for giving me a second chance, but that emotion was short lived when I noticed other things about him. His mask was off, but I no

longer cared. His appearance stopped having an effect on me a long time ago. His cheekbones were more prominent than ever and his face an

even paler shade of white, if that was even possible. For the rest of the night I watched over him. I waited for what seemed like days for you to

wake up. I prayed to God that He would let you stay with me. He couldn't take you away from me yet. Not when I had just realized that I love you.


	2. Chapter 2

November 23, 1889

I have been down here for two long days. Without you here I am very lost in your house. The only places I remember are my old bedroom and your

music room. You wouldn't let me go anywhere else. But sitting here for two days, one has nothing else to do but let ones mind wander. Today I

thought about my dear Raoul. He's probably worried sick about me. All I told him when I left was that I had to leave. Of course he asked me why,

but only answer was, you would not understand. So I wrote Raoul a letter. He has always been there for me and he deserves and explanation as

to my quick get away. I quickly found the Rue Scribe entrance and sent the letter on its way. I made my way back to the house on the lake feeling

very hopeless. I just wanted you to wake up. As I entered your bedroom, finally, it seemed my prayers had been answered, for you opened your

eyes . . . your beautiful eyes. At first the way your eyes glowed scared me so because I thought that must mean you were some sort of demonic

creature, for who ever heard of someone possessing glowing eyes? But I soon began to love the way they did for I always knew were to find you

in the dark. As I looked into them I noticed that the glow you once possessed had dimmed immensely. They were dull and lifeless as you stared off

into nothing. I don't even think you noticed me standing there. Then when I spoke your name, you looked straight at me. At first your face was one

of confusion, but then it slowly melted into a softer almost thoughtful gaze. You asked me what I was doing there. Had something happened to the

boy because you believed that was the only reason I would have returned. I told you that nothing had happened to Raoul. I had returned on my

own. You asked me why. Why would I return willingly to a monster. I let you know that I would never leave you again. That the decision I made

three weeks ago was foolish and done out of fear. At the time I wasn't able to see that the emotion I was really feeling was love. At first I could tell

you were again confused, but it turned into peace. You took my hand and asked me, "Are you sure that you will never leave your poor Erik?" I

quickly replied, "Never." Then you fell back asleep. I'm sure that those actions had been very taxing on your energy. When I had found you, you

had been on the brink of death. I don't like to think of what I would have found if I had waited only a few more days to go back.


	3. Chapter 3

December 5,1889

I've been taking care of Erik for two long weeks. Every day the pain he suffers is horrible. I am never for sure what he suffers from. He has a terrible cough and, is most of the time, short of breath. I

always told him that living down here for 20 years couldn't be good for someone. He denies my accusations saying Erik does not catch a cold from the damp walls. The walls have done nothing but

protect him. That what he is dying from does not come upon someone in the night. He says he has been slowly dying for months. That is all he would tell me, but I don't need his words to fill in the

blanks. As he mentioned before, he is dying of love. I don't understand! I am here now, why is he still dying? Well, whining like a child will do nothing. What Erik needs now is constant care. He has to

be constantly dosed with morphine. Even though I try to deny it, I can see the life slowly drift from him each day. Some days are better than others I will admit. On those days he likes to talk about the

life he had wanted to give me. The house we would have had together. The things and many places he wanted me to see with him. Oh God, why do you torture me so? It is so hard not to cry. To think

that I could be living a happy life with him right now. He would be healthy and we would be living a life of music and happiness. I was such a foolish child. The thing that hurts the most is that I don't

think I will have the chance to fix the damage I've done.

December 9, 1889

It seems everything I do isn't working. His condition isn't getting any better. I'm afraid that I will lose him any day now. One day he asked me to sing for him. I prayed to God to give me strength for

that was the hardest thing I had to do. As I began to sing, my voice kept getting chocked up by the many tears that were streaming down my face. I apologized to him saying I don't think I can sing

now. He told me listen to the music in you Christine, your emotion should not hinder but help your singing to grow stronger. I then chose a song that had he had sung to me before. The song was a

beautiful lullaby. As I started to sing, I noticed how he began to relax and shut his eyes. I thought he was dying. I stopped and rushed to him shaking his shoulder, telling him to wake up. He opened

his eyes and looked at me. How those eyes still have the power to pierce my soul. He asked me why I had stopped and why I was shaking him so. I told him that I was afraid he was dying. He told me

that not at this moment, but he knew that his time was near. I told him that I wasn't ready to lose him. He said that even when he died, he would always be my angel, my angel of music. He asked me

to sing another song to him because my singing pleased him very much. I did as he said, but half way through the song I noticed that there were tears in his eyes. Oh how I hate to see him cry . . .


	4. Author's note

Author's note

Hey readers! I'm oh so very sorry about not updating in about what, 2 months?? I always hated when writers did that and now I've fallen suit! :( Now I will explain myself. During the Summer, I never had any period of inspiration. Then when I finally had some drive to write again . . . school starts and now I am swamped with homework. Hopefully I will get to the next chapter this weekend and my goal is to have a new update by Sunday night :) Thanks for sticking with this story! Love you all!


	5. Chapter 5

Hey everyone! Sorry for the huge delay with posting the next update. Ya this Saturday in my note became like a month later :/ The thing is I got a different computer because my old one wasn't turning on anymore and to my horror my ideas and outline for chapter five were on that computer. So I had to start from scratch on writing the new chapter.

Please review! And maybe if I get a good amount it will give me enough motivation to add an epilogue at the end. :D

Disclaimer: I own nothing :( . . . . . . . . still nothing

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December 12, 1889

Today, I awoke to a horrible noise. At first I had no idea where the sound could be coming from and was a little afraid to step outside the confines of my safe room, but I gathered the courage

and opened the old, wooden door with a soft creak. I grabbed the lit candle off of my nightstand and ventured out into the dark hallway. For a moment I heard nothing but the soft tread of my feet and

my heaving breathing, but then I heard it again. Not so loud this time but the sound that noise made, made my heart and lungs stop. It was Erik. Forgetting all of my past fears I rushed to the end of

the hallway where the door to his room stood and I swung it open. I was met with a foul smell but I quickly put that aside and ran into the room. Erik called out my name as I approached his bed side.

Oh Erik! You looked so weak just lying there in your coffin. Oh I hated that coffin and how you insisted on lying in that God awful thing. Your reasoning had been simple to you, "Everyone has to be

prepared for everything. Even eternity." You snapped me out of my daydream when you're hand suddenly reached up and seized me by the arm and pulled me down until I was only inches from your

face. For a while we just stayed there, looking into each other's eyes until you turned away to cough, a violent episode racked your body until you gained control and managed to even out your breath

as best you could. "Christine, I have t- to . . . tell you so- something." You tried so hard to get even those few words out and your breath was labored with wheezing and the tightness of your chest. I

replied with a gentle yes and begged for you to tell me what you had to say. "Christine, I. . . I- I'm not going to b- be. . . aro- around for much longer. I need you t- to know that. . . that I love you,

Christine. I want to kn- know if. . . if you lov- love me too. Please tell me that." I told you over and over again that I loved you so much! I love you Erik so much. I told him that he was talking

nonsensical. I begged him not to leave. I needed him. I had given up my whole life to be with him. God it isn't fair! Do you really hate him so much? That when he had just found the chance for

happiness, a chance to start over, you had to take that chance away from him? He told me to stop my tears, for he hated it when I cried. Of course that only made me cry even more. "My dear, dear

Christine. Now b- be a good girl. Find yourself a . . . a g- good husband who i- is strong . . . and will take care of you. I w- would hate for you to be a- all alone." Then that was it. He stopped talking as

if that was all that his body would allow him. I took his hand in mine and kept telling him that I loved him. I wanted him to know that. That someone had loved him. He hadn't always been alone. I

leaned down and kissed his forehead one last time. My lips lingered there for a few seconds and then I pulled away. As I looked at him I saw the faintest hint of a smile, then he turned his face away

from me. . . and died.


End file.
